Wanted
by spyroxlink
Summary: After Shawn goes back to live with his father, he's forced to fend for himself. When he's raped, can a friend and teacher put him back together?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first Boy Meets World fic, so I'm sorry if it s not quality. Thank you for reading : D

Disclaimer: I own neither BMW nor their hilariously 90's clothes.

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Shawn Hunter hopped restlessly off his bed. How dare Cory go out of town on a Sunday? He could hardly believe the betrayal. Of course, Shawn could just walk outside and flip his hair and any woman within a mile would come running. But he wasn t up for that kind of company right now. Maybe it was the fact that he d been listening to his father and two women just outside the door for most of the night. They were gone now, but it hardly got him in the mood to make out.

It had been 3 weeks since Shawn had left Mr. Turner s apartment. He d loved living there. What wasn t to love? It was safe, comfortable, regular meals, it couldn t be driven away from you. And for a while, Shawn had even thought someone there had cared about him. But Mr. Turner hadn t signed the adoption papers; he didn t even want Shawn. Besides, he belonged with his dad. And if he hadn t gone with his dad, how much longer would Turner have let him stay. He had already been getting annoyed with him. Everyone did eventually.

With his true family or not, Shawn was hungry. He d usually eat at Cory s, but, as has already been said, some friends are traitorous porcupines who go on vacations with their families. He wrenched open the door and nearly stumbled over his father s unconscious form. Sighing in disgust, Shawn stepped over Chet s massive body. He grabbed his coat and pulled it on as he strode out of the mobile home.

A moment later he was banging on the Stecchino's door. "Open up Frankie, I'm starving!" Shawn kicked the door angrily, and yelled, "Put down your freakin poetry book and open the door!" Oh damn, he remembered, It s Sunday! Vader's match is on Sunday. Damn that freaking barking madman!

Twenty minutes later, Shawn was pulling his jacket tighter around him against the wind. Who knew that Philly got so darn cold in October? He d been wandering and somehow ended up downtown. Shawn glanced around him, hands shoved in his pockets as his shoes struck the sidewalk. The faces of less than savory city people leered at him, and he lowered his head, hair falling into his eyes. Finally, he reached the tall apartment building. He knew his way, as he'd called this place home for nearly a year. He'd spent a lot of time there hanging with Cory, talking to Turner about his problems. Jon was always trying to teach them lessons, like he and Cory needed them!

Reaching the 5th floor he strode down to the 8th room. He didn t really know why he was here. There was of course the fact that he was famished, and he had never gone to the apartment and left hungry. Not to mention the nagging feeling of loneliness that had plagued him since his return to the trailer park. It wasn t that his dad didn t care about him, it was just who he was. Shawn couldn t blame him for that. He reached up his hand to knock and heard voices from inside. Was that a girl? He'd never understood how Feeny with an earring got so many girls.

'What am I doing?' He sighed and dropped his hand. Turner was just his teacher. A teacher he'd lived with for a year, but still just his English teacher. Shawn turned around and plodded back down the stairs. He d just go back to the trailer park and wait for his dad to regain consciousness.

He stepped out onto the lamp lit streets and shoved his hands back in his pockets. He turned a corner and ran smack into someone. A rather large someone. "Hey there pretty."

The voice felt like slime. Shawn shuddered and tried to back up. "Sorry, I didn t see you there; I'll just get out of your way."

The big man sneered and grabbed his arm. "I don't think so, boy. See, this is our alley. And we don't take too kindly to people just waltzing down our alley. But with your flippy hair, we might just be able to work something out."

Shawn felt himself being dragged further into the darkness, and, although it went against every principle and moral he possessed, wished with all his will his hair was a little less luscious. "No, really, I'm sorry," he squeaked, hating the unmanly fear in his voice. The man and his cronies just laughed.

The enormous man holding his arm chuckled. "It's okay, beautiful." He crashed his lips to Shawn s, and stuck his slimy tongue deep into the 15 year old s mouth. Shawn struggled frantically, gagging on the disgusting organ invading his throat. He finally pulled his head free, gasping and terrified. He examined his surroundings; there were 4 men, all huge, but the biggest was the leader and Shawn s current captor.

"Get away from me!" he screamed.

The man's face turned dark. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, boy!" He rammed his ham of a fist hard into Shawn s eye. The boy went limp, gasping in pain. The man thrust him against the brick wall as the others closed in. "Now you just stay quiet lad, and we ll go easy on you."

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Sorry it was short; the later chapters will be longer. Review please! Flames sadden me, but if you really feel the need, have at it.


	2. Chapter 2

Eek, I'm really sorry. I never meant to go this long without updating. I'm verily sorry! I'm on winter break now though, so hopefully I'll be good about updating. Not that I have any credibility left after last time. Thank you so much for the reviews!

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Shawn awoke, his brain numb and spinning at the same time. He dragged himself off of the frigid ground as his body protested loudly against the movement. Stumbling, he leaned against a wall and gathered his strength. Every inch of his body was screaming in pain. He managed to drag himself off the wall and place one foot in front of the other. Gritting his teeth, he continued this pattern, making his way out of the alley.

Somehow, he ended up in the trailer park again. Shawn had no idea what time it was, only that it was dark, and he hadn't seen a single person. He lurched up the steps and wrenched open the trailer's door. The scene lay exactly how he had left it god knows how long ago: filled with mess, poverty, and a passed out father. He made his way over to the unmade twin bed and collapsed, falling unconscious.

As Shawn awoke, disorientation took hold. He didn't know what time it was, where he was, or why he was there; all he knew was that he hurt. As he lay with his eyes squeezed shut, they memory flooded back to him. He tried desperately to forget, to go back to his blissful ignorance, but the scene seemed branded on his mind.

He pulled himself off the bed and charged into the bathroom as quickly as his bruised body would allow. Reaching the toilet, he bent over it and emptied the scant contents of his stomach into it. When he stopped heaving, the teenager slid down the wall and collapsed on the cold floor. He looked up through his bangs, his eyes landing on the open medicine cabinet. Carefully, he rose and pulled the door open the rest of the way. He searched until he found his prize.

Shawn walked back into the bedroom and shook some vicodin into his hands. He swallowed two, lay down on the bed, and let the blackness overtake him.

The second time Shawn awoke he knew exactly where he was. He turned his head painfully and saw it was 7:00 AM. Time to get ready for school. The young Hunter wandered into the bathroom and gave a slight yelp of surprise. Until that moment, he had yet to see himself in the mirror. The area around his right eye was an interesting mosaic of purple, green, and blue. His lip was cut and swollen. He didn't even want to think about what sort of horrors his close were hiding. He carefully combed his long, dark hair over his eye and set to the task of getting ready for school.

By some miracle, Shawn managed to make it to Mr. Turner's literature class. He sat in his desk, staring at the faux wood surface, trying to sink away into it. He'd always hated school, but now he would give anything not to be there. He'd fed Cory some lie about a fight over the weekend and an illness to stop questions about his injuries and absence the day before, but he could fee his best friend's prying eyes on his back and those of his ex-roomie Harley-riding teacher.

Jonathan Turner was having a hard time keeping his mind on the lesson. Ever since the moppy headed teenaged Hunter had walked into his classroom, he'd known something was wrong. Shawn was confident to the point of being cocky, outspoken, and irreverent. Annoying would about sum it up. But today, the boy was silent, his eyes downcast, not even talking to Matthews. It took something serious to do that to Shawn Hunter, and he was worried.

He wrapped up the lesson and dismissed the class. "Don't forget, chapters 6 and 7 tonight for homework!" He packed up his things and called out, "Wait, Shawn I need to talk to you."

Shawn felt panic rising in his chest as Jonathan called his name. He stopped gathering his things and stood. "Yeah?" he replied, trying his best to appear cavalier.

"What's up with you, man?" Jon asked walking towards his former charge.

"I don't know what you mean." Shawn mentally cringed at the waver in his voice.

"Are you kidding? You sat through my entire class and didn't say one word. You didn't even talk to Matthews, and we all know you two are just about ready for your fourth honeymoon!"

"I'm fine; I just don't feel well today," Shawn muttered defensively. Jonathan remained unconvinced. He reached out for the boy's shoulder, but Shawn recoiled, fear filling his eyes. Jonathan was taken aback, but had not time to react as George Feeney burst through the door.

"Jonathan, we really could use your help; there's a bit of a situation in the cafeteria. " Feeney wiped tomato sauce off of his brow with a thoroughly disgruntled expression. Jonathan hesitated, then turned to Shawn.

"We're not done here," he said, before following Feeney outside.

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Please review, even if you hate it and want to tell me to just calm it down. Thank you for reading! I will update soon, not even lying this time!


	3. Chapter 3

Shawn made the executive decision that they were, in fact, done there. He grabbed his bag off the desk and slung it over his shoulder gasping when it struck a particularly malevolent bruise. He strode angrily out the door and into the lunchroom.

After receiving his oh so delicious peas and mashed potatoes from the lunch lady, Shawn sat down gingerly next to Cory and Topanga. The two lovebirds were deep in conversation about their weekend plans.

"Well do you want to go to a movie or to Chubbie's?" Cory questioned.

"Whatever you want, honey" Topanga smiled.

"Whatever YOU want," Cory cooed in return.

Shawn felt as if he might throw up. He picked disinterestedly at his meal. He could feel the pills he'd taken earlier wearing off. Pain was throbbing throughout his body, and he began to feel nauseous because of more than just the disgusting display of affection to his right. He dragged himself up from the table and lifted his tray.

"Shawnie, where ya goin?" Cory looked up, noticing his friend for the first time.

"Bathroom," Shawn mumbled, not knowing the real answer himself. He tossed his uneaten lunch in the trash and exited the cafeteria. He moved down the hall, eyes downcast.

A voice called out from behind him, "Hey, Hunter! Wait up buddy!" Jon caught up with the boy. "Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing Shawn's arm.

Shawn felt himself being pulled and panic rose like bile inside him. "LET GO OF ME!" he yelled, his breath coming in quick gasps.

"Shawn?" Turner questioned, confused by the boy's behavior. He released Shawn's arm, freeing the teen to back up against the lockers, looking at Jon, terrified. Jon had no idea what was wrong with Shawn, but the boy looked more scared than he had ever seen him. He stared at the boy, worried and at a loss.

Shawn, seeing the man pause, turned and ran. Turner was caught off guard. After he recovered from his shock, he raced after the boy. It was no use. Shawn had disappeared into a throng of students. Jon cursed to himself and rushed into the parking lot. He hopped onto his bike and sped off.

Shawn stumbled up to the trailer park and headed towards home. His mind had gone on lock down when Turner grabbed his arm. The run home had cleared his head a bit, but hadn't helped with his injuries. The edges of his vision were starting to get fuzzy. He stumbled up the steps, breathing heavily. Shawn leaned against the door for a moment, desperately trying to get himself under control. 'Shit shit shit, now Turner's going to be suspicious,' he mentally berated himself.

"Hunter," a familiar voice called. Shawn spun around and found Jon behind him, blocking all escape. "Woah, easy buddy, I'm not gonna hurt you." Concern laced Jon's voice as he took in the boy. Shawn seemed more aware of his surroundings.

"What are you doing here?" Shawn managed.

"You think I'm just gonna let you go after that?" Shawn's face colored. "Shawn, we need to talk," Turner's tone had turned soft and serious. "Come on," he said, ushering Shawn into the trailer. Shawn mumbled a weak protest, but Turner was already inside. When the two entered Shawn's home they were greeted with the sight of Chet Hunter sprawled across the floor, a tattered robe hanging around his stout frame. The stench of beer and vomit rose from the man. Empty bottles, pizza boxes, and other debris littered the floor. Turner surveyed the scene and glanced at Shawn. The boy cowered by the door, looking frightened. Jon managed to push down his loathing for Chet for the time being; Shawn was more important right now. He beckoned to Shawn. "Come on, we can go to my place."


End file.
